


Nights so cold

by Dmonius



Category: Marvel
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-10-12
Updated: 2013-01-12
Packaged: 2017-11-16 04:26:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/535488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dmonius/pseuds/Dmonius





	1. Chapter 1

_Beneath_

 

Peter was lying under at least five different blankets and he still felt cold. Extremely cold. The snow outside may turn New York into a perfect Winter Wonderland, but he actually considered to wear his Spiderman suit beneath his pajama. Their heating broke a few hours ago, and even though even Harry had called his father (who had called the heating engineer), there had been no way at this late hour that the heating was fixed before morning. The water in his hot-water-bag was already cold and Peter thought about going into the kitchen again, but that would mean to set his feet on the cold floor – and there was no way he would leave his rather warm spot in his bed behind.

Then, Peter could hear laughter. How and why and whatever about Harry was actually able to laugh at a night so cold, Peter couldn't say. But with a sudden, second sound, Harry thrusted against his door, opened it a moment thereafter and came stumbling into Peter's room. Peter noticed how the older man just wore his pajama pants and he was given the chance to appreciate the gorgeous sight before his brain took over.

“Harry...what are you doing here?”

“I'm cold.”

“Join the club.”

Harry fell on the bed, right on the small mountain top that was supposed to be Peter's body; Peter heard the fall of Harry's slippers and smelled the alcohol in Harry's breath a moment later.

“Wow...Harry...get off me!”

“I'm cold,” Harry whispered, “I'm so cold, I'm so cold.”

“Me too, man.” Peter tried to move aside, but Harry held him there with his firm hands. He shook him and stopped when Peter told him so.

“I'm so cold, Peter.” Harry's index finger traced Peter's nose and cheeks and his hands moved through the younger man's hair. “Do you feel it?”

“You're drunk, that's what you are. Now, get off me.”

“Don't let me alone, Peter. Please, please, I'm so cold.”

“Get off me, Harry...you can come into my bed, but please get _off_ me. Why have you been drinking?”

Harry struggled for a moment to get his feet on the floor again, and it took him only a second to come into under the blankets. He breathed heavily and when Peter tried to increase the space between them, Harry tightened it again and pulled him close. A moment later and Harry lay on top of him; they both were face to face now and Peter could smell the wodka in Harry's breath.

“I'm so cold, Peter.”

Harry kissed him; tentatively at first, so Peter had time to respond with a kiss as well, but the kisses grew more demanding, hard and teasing. Harry smiled and rubbed their noses together, before a sudden squeak escaped Peter. Harry's hands were colds and they were beneath his pajama, touching his skin and his nipples, but Peter couldn't say anything, as Harry silenced anything he could say with a long kiss.

“I'm cold, Peter...Do you feel it? Tell me, please.”

Peter didn't say a thing and just let Harry continue his job. Harry pulled off his pajama and the pants, threw them away and touched every inch of Peter's skin, every mole and every hair. He took everything in his possession, even the things Peter didn't have to offer. After minutes, hours and nights of touching and exploring, Harry finally turned him around and pulled down the Peter's briefs. Harry laid one hand on his shoulder, the other on his ass when he slowly entered Peter. Then, his hands were again all over Peter, touching, protecting, _ordering_. Peter felt Harry's hand in his hair between to thrusts and between to others, Harry turned Peter's head around and tried to kiss him. Peter tried to refuse, tried to turn his head around but after two more quick thrusts, when Harry was biting his left and right shoulder, Peter wished to have obeyed.

Harry finally came inside Peter and let himself fall on the younger man's body. He kissed Peter's neck and stroked his thighs. When he pulled his cock out, he spilled the rest of his semen over Peter's back and laid down next to him. He extended his arm and pulled Peter close, kissed him one more time and whispered: “I love you, Peter.”

Peter couldn't smell any more alcohol on Harry's breath. But he had to admit that Harry was still cold after all.


	2. Chapter 2

Underneath

 

Why did it have to be so cold in February? Wasn't December the usual month for cold- and white fluffiness? Peter was lying underneath all his blankets, had a flashlight in his hand and was leaning over his notes on Doctor Connor's last lecture; he tried to read something while he was quivering to death and no, being Spider-Man didn't save you from suffering in the cold, not even the Spider-Man suit underneath his pajama was helping _at all_.

There was a knock on the door. Peter sighed and shook his head. It was one thirty in the morning and not even Mr. Ditkovich would come at such a late hour to ask for the rent. At least, Peter hoped so.

Peter climbed out of his bed and with a blanket around his shoulders walked towards the door. If Mr. Ditkovich was asking for the rent this way, Peter would ask for fixing the heating first before any payment would be made. He probably wouldn't have the stomach to do it after all, but one could at least try.

“I told you, I would have the rent by the end of the week,” Peter said into the gap between the door and the frame.

“Yeah, Peter. Like I would take money from you.”

“Johnny?” Peter removed the lock and looked at the slightly older and taller blonde man in a leather jacket who standing in front of his door.

“Hey, Pete...” Johnny smiled and lost balance the same time, so Peter had to catch him with his spider speed and pull him inside.

“What's up with you, man? Baxter Building is on the greener side of the lawn.” Peter held Johnny by his hips and lost the blanket; it became fricking cold again.

“I was in the neighborhood. You know, having a beer and stuff.”

“And stuff.”

“You're not twenty-one yet, you wouldn't know.”

“Well, it's cold, I have an exam in two days, you're drunk and therefore I wouldn't mind you taking a cap home actually.”

“Come on, we rarely spend time together.”

“That's because you're always distracting me while I have to learn. Should I give you money?” Not that Peter had any.

“No, no...” Johnny's fingers started to explore Peter's arms and maybe it was the cold, maybe it was the heat Johny's body was emanating, but Peter suddenly realized how ticklish he was and made a step back. Johnny lost balance again and fell forward, catching Peter at his hips. They were face to face now and Johnny smiled.

“I like your eyes,” he said.

“Me, too,” Peter replied, “I mean, I like your eyes, not mine. I mean, I –“

Johnny's smile brightened and he gave Peter a short kiss. And another short kiss. Then a longer one. And another longer one. Then came a kiss with tongue. And that was it for the time being. Peter could feel how Johnny's hands moved under his back and his legs and pulled him up. When Johnny loosened the kiss, Peter said, “You were just faking it. Being drunk I mean.”

“No, I didn't. I just ain't as drunk as you thought I was. But need you to spend time with me.”

Johnny carried him to the bed and laid him down there. It took the Human Torch only a second and he was lying on Peter underneath a blanket wearing nothing but a pair of blue boxer shorts. Johnny lay close to Peter's back in something that resembled a spoon position of some sort and closed his arms around Peter's stomach. Do you remember the emanating heat part? It worked.

“What happens now?”

“Nice cuddling/sleeping for me while you learn and make-up sex first thing in the morning?”

“We don't have anything to make up for.”

“You didn't call me hot when I came in. That's an offense. I'm offensed.”

“You're hot.”

Johnny laid his head close to Peter's hair, kissed the back of his head and whispered, then: “I know.”


End file.
